SHOPPING FOR A DRUGS POLICY

Britain's Labour Government Wants to Do a Better Job of Tackling The
Problem of Illegal Drugs. How About Legalising Them?

COPYING other countries' successes can be a good idea. Copying their
failures is daft. But that seems to be the British government's
intention when it comes to the problem of illegal drug use. Two weeks
ago, Tony Blair, not for the first time going where America has gone
before, invited applications for a new post of drugs "tsar", to take
charge of cleaning things up.

On the same day, in a blatant bid for street-cred, Mr Blair welcomed
Noel Gallagher, star of the rock band "Oasis", to a Downing Street
party for some of Britain's performing artists. It was Mr Gallagher
who famously said that taking drugs was "like having a cup of tea in
the morning".

Nobody has accused Tony Blair of putting a spliff to his lips, let
alone inhaling. But the contrasting signals sent out by these two
events suggest that his thinking on the issue is at least as muddled
as that in the White House. Neither the British prime minister nor the
American president wishes to be seen to be "soft on drugs", but
neither gives the impression that, in his heart of hearts, he actually
believes there is much wrong with them, at least when used by the
successful. What troubles them--quite rightly--are the drugs-related
problems of the inner cities.

The drugs-related murder this month of a five-year-old child in Bolton
has led to calls for Mr Blair to adopt a very different policy on
illegal drugs to America's. Brian Iddon, one of the town's Labour MPs,
has called for a Royal Commission to consider drug legalisation.
Several of his colleagues agreed. Moreover, the Liberal Democrats have
long advocated a review of drugs law, and several prominent Tories
have shown a desire for fresh thinking--most notably Alan Duncan, the
party's new chief spin-doctor, who has argued with vigour for drug
legalisation. A growing number of the "great and good", from police
chiefs to church leaders, want a new approach, too. This suggests that
there now exists an opportunity to build a cross-party coalition for
change strong enough to defeat the failed prohibitionism hitherto
supported by most ordinary Britons.

Any debate on drugs law should start with a fundamental question: why
are some drugs illegal in the first place?

The usual answer is that illegal drugs are illegal because they are
dangerous. The figures, though, do not really bear that out. The
danger varies widely from drug to drug. The least risky is cannabis,
which has never been shown to have killed anybody (indeed, it is
widely canvassed for its medical properties, see article). The most
dangerous are opiates (ie, heroin and methadone), which kill about
1.5% of their users each year, according to London's Institute for the
Study of Drug Dependence. Tobacco kills 0.9% of its users each year
and alcohol 0.5% of them. Ecstasy, about which there has been huge
controversy, kills 0.0002% of its users each year. A motorbike journey
is three times as likely to kill you as taking a tablet of street
ecstasy and--astonishingly--flying on a civil airliner is
one-and-a-half times as dangerous as dropping an "e".

A second response is that illegal drugs are addictive, and so the
rules about freedom of choice do not really apply: legalise them and
millions of people might become hooked, suffering long-term damage to
their health (particularly their brains) even if they do not die as a
result.

There is some truth in this--at least for opiates--but no more than
for alcohol and nicotine, which are both notoriously habit-forming.
The physiology and psychology of addiction are imperfectly understood,
but if addictiveness is truly the criterion for a ban, then booze and
cigarettes should be banned, not cannabis and ecstasy.

A further argument is that drug-taking is not a private matter, but
has social consequences. True, again--but not enough to justify the
current list of illegal drugs. The National Health Service has to cope
with many accidents and diseases that are largely self-inflicted (not
least from tobacco and alcohol). Those caused by illegal drugs are a
small fraction of them.

Against these arguments, the case for legalisation comes in two parts:
the ideological and the pragmatic. In principle, in a free society,
people (adults, at least) should not be prevented from doing something
if it does not harm others. If they harm themselves, provided that
they have not been deceived into doing so, that ought to be their
problem, not the state's.

The pragmatic case is multifaceted. First, prohibition has failed.
Over 60% of British 20-22-year-olds say they have used an illegal
drug, almost half of them in the past three months. Even the Draconian
anti-drug laws in America have not stemmed the flow of drugs. Why not
try a new approach, if only as an experiment?

Legalisation would, if accompanied with suitable regulations, result
in a safer product. Many drug-related deaths and injuries are caused
by the use of adulterated materials or, more rarely, stuff that is
stronger than the user realises.

And legalisation would stop the police and Customs & Excise from
wasting time and money chasing users and traffickers. It could cut
Britain's prison population by up to 10% at a stroke by ending the
imprisonment of those convicted of possession or dealing. By cutting
the price of drugs, it would mean fewer crimes caused by the need to
pay the current inflated prices (although, almost certainly, lower
prices would mean more drug use, too). Reducing the risks and profits
that proscription brings to traders might eliminate the violence that
often accompanies drug dealing.

As well as the money saved from not having to enforce anti-drug
laws--UKP500m ($780m) in Britain last year--the drug trade would
provide a source of revenue for the government. Four-fifths of the
price of a packet of cigarettes is tax, and so is 60% of the price of
a bottle of whisky. Similar levels of taxation would no doubt apply to
newer entrants to the legal recreational-drugs market. Customs &
Excise seized more than UKP500m worth of smuggled drugs in 1996 (and
several times that amount are thought to have got through), and around
UKP250m worth of ecstasy was sold in Britain last year. Even though
legalisation would bring the price down, tax revenues of between
UKP500m and UKP1 billion might be realised.

It is possible that the world would be a better place if nobody took
anything that could harm them. Failing that, the least-worst outcome
may well be one in which most, if not all, of the popular recreational
drugs are legally available, and where people understand the risks
associated with them, just as they (supposedly) understand the risks
of alcohol and tobacco.

Getting there would not be easy, and the journey should be undertaken
gradually. Ideally, the established regimes for alcohol and tobacco
would be replicated, with licensed sales-outlets and minimum ages of
purchase. For synthetic drugs such as ecstasy, licensing manufacturers
to ensure the purity of their products would be wise.

The question of product liability would be best left to civil law. The
balance between caveat emptor and caveat vendor would have to be
slugged out in the courts, as is now happening with tobacco. But,
beyond making sure firms keep to the terms of their licences
(particularly on the question of sales to children), the government
could reasonably leave well alone.

Initially, the new licences should be restricted to cannabis and
ecstasy, as these are the most widely used and also the safest
substances. There would also be a wider consensus supporting this
limited action because many of those who argue for legalising "soft"
drugs do so in the hope that it would stop people coming into contact
with street traders who peddle the more dangerous materials. If the
experiment worked, it could be extended.

Such gradualism would also allow for a necessary shift in attitudes,
so that currently illegal drugs come to be regarded in the same light
as their cousins, tobacco and alcohol. Both of these substances have
well-established conventions for their use, and these conventions
limit their social side-effects. No-smoking areas are accepted as
legitimate by most people. Drinking in the morning is usually frowned
upon. Driving under the influence of, say, cannabis, would have to
carry the same stigma (and sentence) as driving under the influence of
alcohol. Such shifts in etiquette have happened before--the
introduction of cigarettes changed many of the conventions that
surrounded the smoking of tobacco.

Legalisation would certainly be a leap in the dark. There would be
unpredictable consequences as well as predictable ones. But that does
not argue for doing nothing, or talking tougher. Tony Blair wants to
make his mark on a wider stage than that provided by Britain. Why not
show the world that the best way to deal with drugs is to topple the
tsar and embrace freedom?